Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run Last year I followed Scott W's progress at Wasatch and then announced it was my intention to enter, train for and run Wasatch this year. Yesterday I fulfilled that promise to myself. I stood right in front at Go and went out ahead of the mass of runners. I did this simply to get ahead of the mass before the trail narrows significantly a half mile in. I moved to the right of the trail whenever a runner approached to pass, but I stayed in the top 20 up to the top of the climb below Chinscraper. In the morning I had three pair of shoes lined up on the kitchen floor. I tried two pair on and then decided to go with my older Cascadias because I had a good experience wearing them on my first 50 mile race. It was the wrong decision. Somewhere between Chinscraper and Francis Peak my feet had swollen and I developed terrible blisters on my small toes. In addition, the swollen feet made the shoes a size too small and I could feel my individual toes fighting for room in that compressed space. I had a painful run down from Francis Peak to the first aid station at mile 18. I arrived at the second aid station above Bountiful, checkout out quickly, then up the road about a quarter mile I sat and field-dressed my blisters. Up to that point I had been close behind 24 and sub 24-hour runners. I had run from Francis shed to Bountiful with Emily, the eventual women's winner, and Sarah who was the second woman. After the blister stop I pulled up with a fellow named Jeff, from Maryland. We kept pace together through Sessions all the way to just before Lambs Canyon and he went on to a sub-26 hour finish. Arriving at Lambs Canyon I was happy to see my wife and boys. Jared Mr. K was there too and he was a big help. I was inspired to run up the hill to the aid station because I saw Scott W do it last year when everyone else was walking it. I had terrific energy all the way through to Lambs Canyon. Indeed, I ran into and left Lambs feeling well, but the blisters were slowing me and there wasn't a thing I could do. The change of socks at Lambs didn't help as much as I had hoped. Something happened to me after the stop at Lambs. On the trail that ascends to Millcreek I became weak to the point of slowing to a crawl. I did not have a headache, nor did I have a stomach ache. Almost every ounce of my energy was gone. What was happening to me? There was no way I could go 45 more miles in that condition. I thought about going back down to Lambs Canyon aid. I sat on the trail twice. I never sit on the trail. This was a new, strange and frightening feeling I had. I ate gels, Power Blasts, drank water, did the S-caps. Nothing revived me. I stopped to sit on a log and a group of three came up to me. I knew two of them from a run with them a few weeks prior. I told Seth Hale to tell someone at the next aid station (5 miles away) to....then he cut me off and point blank told me I was not going to quit. He said get up off that log and keep walking. I did as instructed. The group of three soon were out of view behind of trees and their voices grew faint until I was alone again. More runners passed me on the descent to Millcreek Canyon road. That was OK, I told myself. I had already decided to get down tot he road, walk 3 miles to the aid station and call my wife to come get me. The lack of energy combined with the blister pain was too much for me to keep going. On the hike up the road I was passed by several more runners, each hiking twice as fast as me. They all said the same thing to me: You will get it back. I told myself: No I won't. In my mind I was already at home, warm and showered, dressed in comfy clothing and watching a movie with my wife and boys. I had given up. It was dusk and getting cold. About that time a small SUV rolling downhill stopped opposite me and I thought the lady driver was going to ask me a question. I took off my earphones then saw a guy jump out of the passenger seat and run around to me. He was a fully suited up ultra runner. Davy Crockett had hitched a ride and came looking for me. In my self-pitying walk of shame I had almost forgotten about Crockett. I was supposed to meet him up near Desolation lake over an hour ago. Like a skilled physician he asked questions to ascertain my condition. I told him the basics but I did not tell him of my intention to get to Millcreek and quit. Instead of a lot of sympathies and talk of "well you did your best", Davy told me to get to Millcreek aid, get warm, get food, deal with the blisters, and get going up to Brighton. Brighton! It may as well have been a continent away. No. I was already home by the fire, eating Chunky Monkey ice cream. But I couldn't say no to this guy. He had hitch-hiked up from Midway, then spent the afternoon running around upper Millcreek and Big Cottonwood Canyons. I got the soup, the Coke, had a look at my toes (watery, exposed, sensitive skin where the bandage I had ripped off took a chunk of dead skin) and wondered how in the world would I even walk ten feet. Surprisingly, I could. We went up the dark trail and were virtually alone all the way to Dog Lake. It turned around. I felt good. Not just good but really good. The No-Doze Davy had given me may have had something to do with it. I am pretty sure we ran most of the trail to Dog Lake. We got up there fast. We ran down to Butler Fork, then hiked the steep sections up to Desolation, but also we ran a lot of the trail to Desolation and passed two or three groups of runners. Got some soup and hot Chocolate at Deso then continued up to the Crest trail. We ran quite a lot of the Crest trail too and caught up with Kendall Wimmer whom I had see down at Millcreek aid. On the road down to Brighton I was not terribly fast due to the foot pain but we ran virtually all of it. The chilly air in the basin was uncomfortable so we ran up the hill to Brighton "The Morgue" aid and checked in. To me the place was nothing like a morgue but was warm and friendly. An oasis. My wife was there and my boys were sleeping on the floor. Scott W's friend and his wife were there, Kelli was there, the gal from the Stiders store, where I sometimes buy supplies, was there. (I may be leaving others out who were there but it was kind of a blur) Some guy - might have been an angel - put his arm around me and told me there were toothbrushes in the restroom. I may have been a filthy pig that night but I was going out of there with a fresh mouth. With a full tummy we left Brighton and hiked up to Catherine Pass. I am glad I had run the last 25 miles a few weeks prior. I knew what was coming. The descent to Ant Knolls was excruciating. My feet were hammered. Thus the long stop at Ant Knolls aid. Almost all of the 20 minutes there was for re-dressing my bandages and duct-taping moleskin to my forefeet. Josh Greenwell and his pop had finally caught up to me there and we leap-frogged the remainder of the morning and finished within five minutes of each other. Pole Line Pass aid was one of my favorite. It was lit up brightly and was such a relief to come in there. Out of my drop bag I mixed up an Ultragen recovery drink and took it all in a minute. Shortly after leaving Pole Line I started to feel the way I did when I left Lambs. I weakened significantly. Holy smokes that was it! I drank an Ultragen at Lambs, too. It is a 300 calorie drink that has the best stuff in it. But lesson learned: It is a recovery drink, not to be taken during the run. My theory is that all those calories suddenly dumped into my stomach must have just re-routed all my energy to work on digesting the drink. I had to walk a lot after Pole Line, especially the long, long, long uphill that leads through the conifer forest. The remainder of the morning was spent simply getting those miles behind us. I liked the little aid station at Rock Springs. It sits right on the trail, a drive-thru. If I do not get picked in the lottery next year I want to volunteer to work at one of those remote, middle-of-the-night aid stops. If I recall correctly we were just down from The Plunge at sunrise. Running that, with the soft powdery sand underfoot, was much easier on the feet than the rocky The Dive. I could not run that like I did on the training run through there a few weeks earlier. I was looking forward to Pot Bottom because I believed there would be awesome breakfast food there. I was disappointed when all I could get was a PB & J but it would have to do. With seven miles to go I was looking forward to getting up that 2 miles of dirt road to the last downhill section. I knew that the last 5 miles would go fast and they did. The trail is very rocky through there but I did surprisingly well. I could smell the finish. I could see the finish at one point still several hundred feet below. I caught back with Josh at about mile 98.5 and suggested we should run together to the finish. His foot was hurting pretty badly but I knew he would not finish too far behind. The last mile and a half I ran quickly. I put aside the foot pain and did not stop until I went under that banner. I lost Davy somewhere around the bend in the road near the golf course but with about a quarter mile to go he drove past in his car and waved at me. He quickly parked across the street from the lawn and jumped out in time to run with me to the finish. Nobody there was the wiser. 28 hours 32 minutes Family and friends were there to see me in and that is the best feeling. Crossing the finish line really does make all the lows and struggles of the past day worth it. Craig and Matt were there to welcome me in as fellow runners, and I learned of Craig's smokin' fast time of 24hr25m. Later, as I watched runners come in all day, I got a little emotional each time I saw those individuals reach 100 miles. Scott W came in later in the morning and we congratulated him on his 2nd Wasatch finish. He fought hard for this one and did not let go. Special thanks to Davy Crockett for imposing his will on me. Yes, I did all the work but he provided the level-headed perspective I did not have in my moment of crisis. He was never pushy, rather, he was matter-of-fact confident in what I could do. Lessons learned: 1. I gave up to easily. I did not believe I would "get it back" but I did and now I am a believer. 2. Figure out the shoes. If I can run on happy feet I can run several hours faster. I will do Wasatch again.
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